this is where

May 05, 2012

When Kyle and I had been married for about six years and I was very newly pregnant with Dacey, we moved from Fort Worth to San Marcos, Texas. We had not made the leap into home ownership yet, but with a new baby on the way, we thought perhaps the time was right.

Kyle and I may differ in a lot of ways, but one passion we've always shared is our enthusiasm for old homes. We looked high and low in San Marcos for an older home that we could afford, one that possibly needed a little time and attention and love to restore it to its previous glory. We couldn't find anything in that community, so our realtor suggested we move our search to the south.

In the charming town of New Braunfels (sigh), we found our dream house. A quaint two bedroom with gorgeous hardwood floors throughout, this house had already been loved back into beauty. Fresh paint, fresh fixtures, fresh finishes. It was the most darling house, complete with a white picket fence.

This was back in 2004 when anyone could get a loan for nearly any amount, and our financing was approved with no question. But it began to gnaw at us, and the more we looked at the numbers, the more we knew we couldn't afford this house. We ended up backing out of the contract, hearts broken and humiliated. I am not exaggerating when I say it has taken us years to recover from that experience. We've never entertained the thought of buying a house again.

Until now.

In February, Kyle took a promotion with a different investment firm, and this meant a daily commute into Oklahoma City. More than a few people in the small town in which we live make this drive daily, and though it brought some adjustments to our daily schedule, it was fine.

Separately, God began to press on our hearts the idea of moving to Oklahoma City. It was very clear to both of us the direction was to move into the city itself, not one of the suburbs or small town communities outlying our state's capital city. When we finally began to talk about it, we both realized we had been nervous to tell the other because moving into this much more urban area brought with it a bounty of questions and issues we hadn't considered before (namely: schools).

We quietly began to work with a realtor - Gary Caplinger, the husband of a long-time friend of mine who shares our passion for historic, urban areas and our spiritual beliefs. It was wonderful to work with someone with whom we had the freedom to say, "We need to pray about this," and "We are really trying to hear from God" as our search began.

As I was getting ready to board the plane to Nashville for Blissdom, Gary sent me a link to a house that was so charming, so inviting, so cozy and so perfect, my eyes filled with tears. It was everything we had been looking for.

Throughout the weekend at Blissdom when I had a free minute, I would sneak peeks at the house again, and my heartbeat would quicken. As soon as I got off the plane after my return to Oklahoma, I drove from the airport to the neighborhood to see the house in 3D. As I drove down the street, my heart sank. They were having an Open House that day, and I was convinced someone would grab it up before we could. I parked my car in front of the house and tearfully reminded myself that if it was meant to be, it would be.

We got to see the house and it was even better than we had hoped for from what we had seen of the listing pictures. We were concerned about the way the space was laid out, especially in the bedrooms, and so I reluctantly agreed that we needed to keep looking. We saw quite a few beautiful homes in the old streetcar suburbs of Oklahoma City, but none of them were quite right.

Eventually, we asked to see the beautiful red brick again, and on our second showing, we both just knew. This was our house. Suddenly our concerns about the layout of the space seemed unimportant - workable solutions sprang to mind, and we were sold. Long story and a few delays later, and we closed on the house last Wednesday.

Just as gorgeous as the indoor space of our new home is the outdoor space - a huge backyard lot that is green at every turn.

From the moment the girls set foot on the property, they've raced around like it was their own.

And so, we are moving. After years of renting, years of dreaming, years of preparing, we have a bona fide historic home on the National Register.

Complete with glass doorknobs

and a clawfoot bathtub.

In the backyard, there is a smoker left by the previous owners (or maybe even the owners before that). When we saw it on Wednesday, Kyle and I exchanged amused glances because look:

Of all the things to find in our new backyard in Oklahoma City, a New Braunfels smoker? God has a funny way of reminding us of redemption, doesn't he?

Of course we are beyond giddy about our new home, but we are equally excited about moving into Oklahoma City - where the streets are clean but most of them are gritty(watch the video to see what I mean). There are some pretty cool things happening in the City right now, including a strong movement celebrating the arts. The buy local movement is gathering speed, and from the inner core outward, there is a vision for both restoring historical elements of this old cowtown while aspiring to a new vision for urban development.

I'm thrilled to be joining bloggers like Pencil Shavings, Design Crush, pippin + pearl, and jeremy and kathleen in showing the world what life in OKC looks like (not a covered wagon in sight!). And so many of our friends from high school, college, and online life live in the City - how incredible to have a built-in network of friends waiting on us.

Two weeks from today is our scheduled moving day. As you can imagine, between house hunting and book release madness, life has been super chaotic behind the computer screen. In the next few weeks, I'll be featuring some sweet friends who have volunteered to fill the space here. I'm wishing/hoping/praying that by June, we'll be back into the swing of things.

I cannot even tell you how excited we are about this next chapter in our lives, even as our hearts tighten with bittersweet over leaving small town life behind. Change, as always, is the only thing that stays the same.

April 27, 2012

I'm going to begin (as I so often do) with a confession: I shot these pictures and loaded this post into my Drafts back in January.January! Oh, remember how I was going to talk about being open to healthy living? As it turns out, the only thing I've been open to in 2012 so far is distraction. Bless it.

Anyway, I'm reviving the this is where series primarily to re-motivate myself. I have fallen way off the healthy living wagon. I sorta rationalized it with just doing what I had to do to get through the stress of finishing the book and all the stuff of getting it released.

But yay! We survived! And now I need to get back to taking care of myself, both with diet and exercise.

After we began our low-carb approach to eating, Kyle and I began to pursue some workout programs that would help us build on how much better we were feeling internally. Kyle got right on board with P90X; I was more hesitant to do weight training. More on that in a bit.

We cleared out our upstairs bedroom/storage room and made space for getting in shape.

I wish I had before pictures of this space because ohmygosh. It was AWFUL. You couldn't walk through it without stepping on clothes or suitcases or toys. Awful. But once we set our minds to tackling it, it only took one afternoon to tidy up!

We knew we would need a TV/DVD, so we pulled together some miscellaneous components for that part of the space. Kyle shopped Craigslist like a champ, and we slowly added free weights and other kinds of equipment to make a little makeshift home gym area.

We have no central heat or air in our upstairs, so we have to rely heavily on fans in the summer and a space heater in the winter.

So, as many women are, I was hesitant to try weight training. I did not want to bulk up. However, remember a few years ago when I trained to run that 10K? Well, throughout all of the running I did to train for that, would you believe I did not lose one single pound? That helped to convince me that I have finally reached that age in life when cardio training on its own is no longer effective for weight loss.

Kyle helped me research and I eventually decided to try a workout program also by Beachbody (the company that does P90X) called ChaLEAN Extreme.

I LOVE this workout program! I use free weights with it, but you could use excerise bands if you don't have space for free weights. I love that you can start where you are (yes, I started many of the exercises with five pound weights!) and gradually build your strength.

Chalene emphasizes again and again that our metabolism doesn't slow down simply because we are getting older, it slows down because as we age, we lose muscle. Muscle burns fat, and so we as we lose that muscle, we lose our ability to burn fat efficiently.

I also love that ChaLEAN Extreme workouts are a lot shorter than the P90X. I couldn't commit to hour long (or more) workouts every single day, but 35 minutes, 5 days a week? I can do that.

Our home gym isn't picture perfect. We have a few baby things stashed in there that we can't quite turn loose of yet. There are often toys that have migrated in there from the playroom. Sometimes it's hot, sometimes it's cold. There are empty glasses of water and stinky socks on the floor.

It's not pretty, but it works for us. And I reeeeeeally need to get back up there and make use of it. It feels good to push myself, to make myself do hard things, to remind myself that I am strong.

October 14, 2011

If you'll recall, my parents had four kids in the span of six year. Some of my earliest memories include my dad doing the dishes every night after dinner. I like to think my parents were trailblazing pioneers in the movement toward equal division of household chores, but I bet if you asked them about that, they would probably say it was because my mother had already crawled off to bed. I can't blame her.

My dad would sing At The Cross and O, Victory in Jesus and Johnny Horton's Battle of New Orleans (that was his favorite) while we stood at his side, begging him to hurry so he could take us outside to play.

Not that mother never did the dishes. In fact, when she was upset or sad or angry, she would take it out on the dirty dishes, plunging her hands past the delicate suds into the murkey water beneath. Drinking glasses would rattle and dishes would clatter and the four of us would scatter like rats.